


Fool's Pride

by bittenfeld



Category: Mach GoGoGo | Speed Racer, Speed Racer (2008)
Genre: Bloody Kisses, Explicit Sexual Content, Hate Sex, M/M, Male Slash, Rough Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-01 23:33:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8642551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: “Pride, Envy, Avarice -- These Are The Sparks That Have Set On Fire The Souls Of Man.”The battle on the race-track only intensifies the feelings between Racer X and Cannonball Taylor... but is that all it is...??Final - Chapter 7:  If David Detector happened to find out X wasn’t at the track and wasn’t in his hotel room… X didn’t want to think about it. Too many what if’s… not enough answers that didn’t end in absolute catastrophe.





	1. No one ever choked to death swallowing his pride

**Author's Note:**

> this story was not written by me, but by my friend, crystal lemons. I'm posting it because some of my fics segue from this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle on the race-track only intensifies the feelings between Racer X and Cannonball Taylor... but is that all it is...??

**The Look:** The new WRL season promised to be just as brutal and even more conniving than the last. Just because Royalton was out of the picture didn’t mean it wasn’t still about money and shady deals made between influential businessmen and their cohorts.

X leaned up against his locker, there was nothing in it as he always came with everything he needed for a race but it provided him a decent look at the competition, new and old and to possibly catch any rumors or insight into the races that might prove useful… after all… goons loved to brag.

Speed walked by and smiled, nodding when their eyes met. Despite X’s visor that seemed to forever mask what he was truly thinking, Speed always seemed to be able to see right through him. It unnerved him, but he grinned smugly and nodded back slightly.

Coming in not too long after Speed was a man X could have gone the rest of his life without seeing again: Cannonball Taylor.

He was amazed the man had even been allowed back into the sport after the spear hook incident at the Grand Prix last season. He’d managed to contest his guilt by claiming he’d have been in danger had he not complied with Royalton… so while his hall of fame chances had been shattered, he’d been allowed to return under probation. If it had been X’s decision not only would be have been barred from the sport forever but he’d have made sure he lived up to his nickname by making it look like he’d been hit in the face with a cannonball.

Taylor walked tall despite his average stature, seeming every bit and as arrogant and prideful as ever, as all eyes seemed to watch as he made his way towards his locker. He smirked at the attention, never being bashful about being in the spotlight, then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside casually before taking his racing uniform from his locker. He dressed quickly and silently, that grin never leaving his face. He turned around and everyone in the room suddenly seemed busy with their own lives again, but not X. He continued staring, almost straight through him it seemed. Yet, where any other man would have turned away from the black-leathered demon, Taylor walked up to him seeming completely indifferent to him.

“The Harbinger of Boom himself back for another season.” He grinned wickedly, staring X down despite being quite a bit shorter, “Good to know I’m not the only shadow still haunting this sport.” He started to laugh and went to pat X’s shoulder but in an instant X side-stepped, grabbed his arm, and swung around behind Taylor, pinning his arm behind him, then slammed him against the lockers. He leaned in close to Taylor’s ear so that no one in the deathly silent room could hear him.

“We’re nothing alike. You’re a _stain_ on this sport… not worth the spit I want to shoot at you,” X sneered at him and started to let go when Taylor moved quickly, whipping out of X’s grasp and reversed them so he was pinning X to the locker. X started to muscle his way out of the grip when Taylor simply let him go, backing away. They stared each other down, and X executed every bit of his will not to throttle the man. Taylor chuckled and walked away without another word, knowing he’d made his point.  
  
X stared him down the entire way, not even noticing that Speed had walked up and asked if he was all right. Taylor reached the door and looked back over his shoulder, a different sort of expression present in his eyes that took X by surprise. Taylor looked him over almost like someone looked over a prize to be won, a mix of determination and dark desire flashing in his steely gray eyes. X continued glaring at him openly, suppressed the urge to shiver, knowing only one thing for sure. This was far from over.

_to be continued..._


	2. In general, pride is at the bottom of all great mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle on the race-track only intensifies the feelings between Racer X and Cannonball Taylor... but is that all it is...??

**The Race:** It really didn’t do it justice to say Racer X had a vendetta with Cannonball Taylor. No matter where Taylor darted on the track, X was never far behind and vice versa, acting as each other’s only threat the entire race. Their hostility towards one another had quickly become more popular than the outcome of the race itself, as they barreled down the narrow track ways side by side, knocking, grinding, spinning and jumping around one another with near identical skill, and all eyes watched transfixed as turn after turn, loop after loop, lap after lap, neither let down in their brutal attacks. Both sides of their cars had become indistinguishable lumps of beaten and battered metal with more of each other’s paint on their respective cars than their own.

X breathed heavily, ramming Taylor’s side just as they entered a half-pipe and hitting his jump jacks so that the left side sprung up and sent Taylor’s car spinning towards the wall. Taylor quickly hit his own jacks and they connected with the edge of the half-pipe which sent him spinning back to the other side of X, and as he landed, he came in a sharp bee-line for X’s car, whirling his car around so the sharp points of his hind end tore into the yellow metal. X growled and spun his own car the opposite direction, the wider end of his acting like a battering ram that stopped Taylor in his tracks and sent a painful jolt through them both. They broke apart again, and their eyes met.

X was exhausted and thankful for his dark visor so his eyes wouldn’t betray him. They were perfectly matched, and it was only then that X could see the true gift of Taylor’s skill. It was almost sad that given the circumstances they were bitter enemies. Under different circumstances, X could have easily seen Taylor as a powerful ally. For a moment it seemed as though Taylor had the same thought because they stared at each other with an almost mutual understanding. But then there was that look in Taylor’s eyes again. Something deeper than X could decipher… a want, a greedy need that transfixed X for reasons unknown. It only bothered X more when the man grinned slightly and pointed ahead, X snapped out of it just in time to turn sharply and break away from Taylor as the track split into two separate tracks that weaved back and forth over each other but didn’t touch. X swallowed heavily, feeling a burn of shame swell in his chest for being so completely distracted. It quickly fueled his anger as he swung sharply and leapt across the chasm between the tracks to rejoin Taylor and restart their private battle royale afresh. Each matching the other move for move, it would go down as one of the most brutal matches in the history of the WRL and no clear winner only added fuel to an already roaring fire.

Miraculously both finished the first leg of the two-day race despite their cars being haggard and severely battle-scarred. The news-hounds were more interested in them than the cars – or even the winner for that matter – and as X silently pushed his way through the crowds, he heard the main question being asked to Taylor…

“What was that all about?”

He didn’t bother looking back, even as he heard Taylor’s answer.

“We have some… unfinished business is all.”

X’s hands balled into fists and he forced himself to keep walking. The media had heard what they wanted… but X easily read between the lines. He could even imagine that smug smile and that look being shot in his direction…

Taylor had meant that it still wasn’t over.

 _to be continued_...


	3. There is this paradox in pride-- it makes some men ridiculous, but prevents others from becoming so.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way Taylor looked at him… like he could see right through him. Only Speed had ever had that effect on him, but where Speed signified everything pure and innocent in this world… … Taylor…

**The Hotel:** X was cautious upon entering his hotel room. Always aware that he was a target at all times, even in the resting hours, he checked around for signs of tampering or unusual items lying about… even going so far as to mentally take note of all entry points and exits before he ever allowed himself a relinquished sigh and lay back on the bed.

He pulled his mask back and ran a hand through his damp hair then rested his hand over his tired eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to ease off his headache. Everything pulled at his tired mind all at once, vying for his attention despite his desire to rest the aches away from his body and mind where he’d been thrown around so much earlier in his brawl with Taylor.

He couldn’t even understand what his draw to the man was. He should have been able to just leave it alone. Even considering Taylor’s incident with Speed, his anger should have been over and done with in the locker room. Then Taylor had showed up near him on the track and suddenly nothing else mattered. It was aggravating that after all his years of training and quiet intensity, there still existed someone who could get under his skin.

Taylor always acted so sure of himself. Like life itself owed him a favor and he looked to collect twice what it owed. The way Taylor looked at him… like he could see right through him. Only Speed had ever had that effect on him, but where Speed signified everything pure and innocent in this world… … Taylor…

X sighed heavily and sat up realizing he was getting nowhere and no rest. He pulled his mask back on, deciding if he couldn’t rest he might as well work. He hadn’t seen the Shooting Star since the end of the race. He needed to assess the damage and salvage what he could before tomorrow.

He needed a distraction from the silver haired man and his evocative smile.

~~**~~

It was late when X walked back towards his room. He had fixed all of the major problems on the car, and anything else he either patched as best be could or would just have to compensate for later. He didn’t have the luxury of a huge team of mechanics at his beck and call after all, so tomorrow… well, later today – was it tomorrow already? –  Taylor would have the clear advantage, as X was sure _his_ car was already fixed, polished and probably modified with heavier armor…

X had dug himself in pretty deep… his joy was tangible in the form of a headache that ached dully behind his eyes, threatening to worsen at any given moment.

“You really don’t ever take that off, do you?”

The voice startled X from his thoughts, and he turned to see Taylor relaxing comfortably in one plush high back leather chairs which adorned the cocktail lounge X had mindlessly drifted past. Taylor wasn’t looking at X now but at his glass, shifting its contents slowly, seemingly amused by the rich gold that reflected off his drink from the fire light.

“I imagine…” Taylor laughed to himself softly, taking another sip of the dark amber liquid, “… that that leather would chafe terribly after awhile.” There was a suggestiveness to Taylor’s voice which made X raise an eyebrow beneath his mask.

“It really is an impractical design if you ask me, must be dreadful to work in.” Taylor paused a moment, looking his competitor over. X stood like a statue and had about as much personality… but no man was an island. Every man burned for something… and it was obvious X was no exception by the way he moved on the track. He was a puzzle to Taylor, a code to crack, complex and intriguing.

Taylor grinned to himself, motioning to the chair across from him in silent invitation.

X noticed the empty lowball glass sitting across from Taylor and realized he had been waiting for him. He stood for several seconds just trying to comprehend that act in itself. He just couldn’t understand. It was like a barrier between them that X wanted to cross without actually knowing why… and to think of why left his already weary mind spinning.

It was obvious to them both that this had nothing to do with something as petty as a racing grudge – but then what did connect them, X wondered. How was it that without ever raising his voice, the man could invoke such a intense reaction in him? He wanted to ask… almost detachedly from reality itself… _‘Who are you?’_

“It suits me fine.” X finally managed, as he turned and walked away, recognizing just how ridiculous he had sounded. He tried to push the entire event out of his mind quickly as he made his way back to his room. Taylor sat back, lips pursed into a tight, thin line. It was all he could do to keep himself from laughing.

* * * * *

 _to be continued_ …  



	4. We Are Rarely Proud When We Are Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor answered his hotel room door with a sheet tied loosely around his waist. He took one look at X and started to laugh.  
> "Now, really. Are you going to stand there all night?"

**The Room:** X had tried to sleep. He lay restlessly, tossing and turning. When his exhausted mind finally lapsed into some form of shallow dozing, it only brought forward the most prominent thing taking up his thoughts. The face of a man with clear gray eyes that flashed dangerously yet held him spellbound. A feeling that kept him fighting even past exhaustion on the track… A look that spoke a connection which words could never hope to explain… it shot through him, and all his defenses meant nothing. Everything he was… meant nothing… in those eyes.

X, consumed by these thoughts, hadn't really noticed when his body started moving on its own. Hadn't fully noticed he'd suited up, mask and all… and he really hadn't noticed at what point he'd left his own room, wandering aimlessly down the hotel's hallways, only to stop in front of one of the doors and knock sharply.

Taylor answered the door with a sheet tied loosely around his waist. He took one look at X and started to laugh. Then turning away from him, he walked back inside his room, leaving the door open all the same. X stood, not exactly sure why he'd come. Part of him wanted Taylor to give him the answers; the rest of him wanted to run away. He found he had nothing to say, and quickly he could feel a tightness gathering in his chest and a burning in his stomach.

"Now, really. Are you going to stand there all night?" Taylor called to him, out of sight.  
X scowled and forced himself to enter, as opposed to running away all together. Pushing the door closed softly, he stepped into the main room as Taylor stood gazing out the window, lowball glass in hand.

An uncomfortable silence filled the air and X shifted nervously. Taylor looked over his shoulder at him; that smirk which had haunted X all day was on in full force on Taylor's lips.

"That was my first question. What's yours?" He chuckled, seemingly enthralled by the entire situation. Like X had done exactly what he was supposed to. X swallowed hard, feeling his anger grow at being toyed with.

"What are you up to?" X asked flatly. It was the only question he could muster.

"I plan to kill you." Taylor answered quickly and concisely, his eyes locking with X's. X's entire body tensed and already his adrenaline was kicking into high gear, his hands tightening into fists at his sides… his mind suddenly locating at least 3 objects in close vicinity that could be used as weapons and mapping the layout of the room. Taylor finally broke him from his trance with the rich sound of his laughter.

"Really…" he said with an air of disbelief and still laughing slightly, "You want me to be the bad guy _that_ badly?" Taylor took another swallow, eyes on his glass, rather than X. "You interest me… and I always go after what interests me." It was as good of an explanation as Taylor was ever going to be willing to offer.

X wanted to throttle the man right there, this was all a game to him – and that pissed X off more than he cared to admit. He took a deep breath, knowing blatant outbursts here would get him nowhere.

"You even talk like you’re evil." X remarked dryly, preferring to ignore his comment of interest. Taylor laughed again, enjoying this little spar of words.

"And you're trying to tell me that your little vendetta on the track today wasn't evil? That your insane pride in this sport isn't evil? Pride is the original sin, you know that?" Finally Taylor turned away from the window and faced X, "If I am evil and you are necessary evil, then only a word separates us, hmm?" Taylor moved over to a table half-way between him and X, and refilled his glass. X swallowed hard, unable to think of a viable argument… he defaulted.

"You and I are nothing alike." X's jaw tightened, he'd sounded a little more defiant than he would have liked. He didn't want to try and find the truth in Taylor's words. Taylor chuckled.

"Yes, it's easy to be a martyr when your actions are linked to some cheesy superhero costume and not the man beneath it. Some of us don't get that luxury." Taylor smiled, swearing he could almost feel the anger building in X. He wondered what it would take to make him explode. A devious game formed in his mind.

"What makes you better than me?" Taylor asked calmly, no malice or real curiosity in his voice. He spoke more as a suggestion, something for X to think about, "You who hide behind that mask, supposedly a soulless golem." Taylor turned away from X again, "You who have but merely a letter as any proof of your existence at all." He paused for a moment for the full effect of the final blow to hit him, "You who attacked me so passionately in the locker room and the track this afternoon." He turned to X again casting a reproaching stare, "Who are you…" It was a completely flat statement. No question, no curiosity to it. Merely a statement meant to make X think… and it worked.

X felt trapped, smothering inside himself. He wanted to run, he wanted to scream and yell and silence that voice which spoke beyond the façade of Racer X to reach the man beneath. Never had anyone gotten so deep under his skin – and it both unnerved and strangely enticed him. There was a boundary set by Taylor that Racer X could not cross, a challenge set in the subtlety of his words that caught X completely off balance.

Taylor waited patiently for whatever response the man could muster. He could see the gleam of sweat building around X’s face and knew he'd struck a nerve. He expected him to storm out… or worse, to go on about his twisted view of justice. So when X said nothing but slowly moved his hands behind his head, Taylor could only watch in silence.

X pulled his mask off slowly, mind and body at separate ends of a spectrum. His mind told him this was a mistake and that he was jeopardizing everything he'd ever worked for by doing this. His mind still begged him to run away and never look back. But his body had already completed the motions, and his hands fell back to his sides, mask held tightly in one fist.

His eyes remained closed and he took a long, slow breath before they opened and locked into Taylor's. He tried to appear bold, unabashed… but his heart was slamming against his ribcage; and Inspector had always liked to tell him that his eyes were what made him a terrible liar. He swallowed hard again wondering briefly what the man would think about X's current situation. But then he quickly turned his thoughts back to the game.

He tossed the mask and it landed at Taylor's feet.

"Good enough for you?" X tried to keep his stare down with Taylor going, but he found it much harder without his protection and looked at his mask lying on the ground instead.

Taylor momentarily found himself speechless. He had never expected X to actually take him up on the challenge, it had merely been a tactic to upset his little inner world. It wasn't completely lost on him just how deeply he'd affected the man for him to do such a thing. It was obvious that, at least for the moment, he was in complete control. He could destroy this man if he wanted to – and that power excited him in more ways that one, his loose fitting sheet being the only cover for the more obvious show of his exhilaration.

Instead outwardly, he showed complete disinterest. Didn't even bother looking at the mask lying at his feet as he walked over it and closed the distance between them.

"You're human after all. I'm not sure if I'm excited or disappointed," Taylor said blandly when in reality he was looking X over with an obsessive interest. The man’s hair was messy and clung damply to his forehead. Dark brown eyes glared at him and a bead of sweat slid down X’s neck, getting lost below his collar. Taylor decided it was a shame that that face, and that body – now that he thought about it – were constantly hidden away.

X watched him, body tense. He wanted to grab the man and toss him away like nothing… but the way Taylor was looking at him, eyeing him slowly… hungrily… stilled any reaction. Until X started to get an idea of what was really going on – and wasn't sure how to take it when his body's response was interest in return, his leather suit suddenly fitting tighter over his crotch than it had a few minutes ago.

Taylor noticed too and raised an eyebrow.

"Well we know which you are," Taylor laughed, and X's embarrassment quickly turned into anger. This was, however, all Taylor's fault. X lashed out, grabbing Taylor's arm and threw him against the wall, the glass Taylor had been hold flew from his hand shattering against the floor. X's other hand grabbed a fistful of Taylor's hair, then he crushed their lips together. It was hard and demanding, dominating… X tightened his fist in Taylor's hair and pressed Taylor's body against the wall. No breath passed between them.

Until X could feel his lungs burning for air, and that alone broke him from his trance as he jerked back, releasing Taylor as quickly as he'd captured him. X gasped for air, dizzy with what he'd just done as much as from the lack of oxygen. Everything fell into place with a disturbing clarity to him now. As much as he'd refused to believe it or admit it to himself… his emotions… his almost obsessive interest in the man since he showed back up that morning had all led to that. Another wave of lightheadedness washed over him and he closed his eyes for a moment, unsure of what to do …what to say… where to go.

Slowly Taylor straightened himself up, licking his lips and tasting the faint metallic zing of blood where X had split his lip slightly. He chuckled again, seeing the struggle plainly on X's face.

"So _that's_ what you really wanted to do this morning. Interesting." Taylor laughed and X's face burned hotly.

 

 _to be continued_ …


	5. The Truly Proud Man Knows Neither Superior Nor Inferior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor pinned X to the wall, hand at X's throat as he returned the brutal kiss. A wildfire ran in X’s blood as Taylor pushed his tongue past X’s lips...

**The Bed:** X felt as though he had been standing at the edge of a cliff and he’d just leapt… His heartbeat was deafening in his ears and while he should have been afraid of the inevitable outcome, he understood that this wasn’t fear that confused and paralyzed him so. The excitement of the freefall held him fast and he could only bring himself to look up at Taylor with his too-honest eyes.

Taylor considered his options with the grace of a hunter aiming for the kill. He turned away from X and could almost feel the intensity of those eyes on him… strong yet unsure. Taylor closed his eyes, a devilish smirk breaking on his lips.

“Guess that makes it my turn then.”

Before X could fully understand what he’d meant, Taylor had moved. He pinned X to the wall, hand at his throat as he returned the brutal kiss. X inhaled sharply, shocked at the suddenness of Taylor’s actions. He quickly brought a hand up to shove him away but Taylor was one step ahead, capturing his wrist with his free hand and restrained it over X’s head. A wildfire ran in X’s blood as Taylor pushed his tongue past X’s lips. He wrapped his hand around the back of Taylor’s neck with all intentions of tearing the man away from him, but when Taylor pressed his leg between X’s it sent a searing hot flash through X and his hand tightened in Taylor’s hair and he thrust forward, pressing deeper into the forceful kiss, tongue mingling wildly with Taylor’s.

The power struggle that had ignited on the track earlier that day now played out in a dizzying demonstration between the two men. Hands grabbed roughly and breath was stolen greedily. Taylor tore at the zipper of X’s suit, skin desperately seeking skin. The touch was electric when he finally managed to free X from his leather prison, and X shivered against Taylor’s lips.

X pulled back long enough to rip his top the rest of the way off, gloves and all went flying he didn’t give a damn where, as he took their battle back up. They vied for control, groping violently at one another with only their excited grunts to remind them what they were really doing. X hadn’t noticed that ever so slowly Taylor was leading him away from the wall.

X’s fingers slid down Taylor’s back, nails leaving bright red welts behind on golden skin. He stopped at Taylor’s hip where skin met cloth and grasped it tightly, fingers delighted that on Taylor’s well-sculpted body there still remained softer flesh that gave to his efforts. Taylor seemed to have had something close to the same idea though as his own hands made quick work of X’s belt, and forced the material down X’s slender waist, amused when he felt nothing underneath but skin. Taylor grinned against X’s mouth when he felt the sheet slip off his hips, X was almost making it too easy.

Taylor grabbed a fistful of X’s hair and jerked him back, and instantly X‘s hand was gripping Taylor‘s arm so hard that his fingers went white. Their eyes met and neither showed any hint of backing down. This was a fight to the end and Taylor’s grin deepened. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Taylor tugged X’s head back and shoved him back with his other hand so that X stumbled back, but when he tried to regain his balance his pants tripped him up and he fell back expecting to hit the floor. He was surprised when he hit the bed instead and he quickly recovered, kicking his pants and shoes off before Taylor could pounce on him, so that when he tried, X pulled his knees up and threw Taylor off balance and swung him to the mattress instead. Taylor glanced around quickly and waited for X to move over him before grabbing his shoulders and throwing him off of him. X sat up as Taylor came after him, his plan had been to use Taylor’s momentum against him and flip him, but as he grasped Taylor’s shoulders and fell back to toss him, his back hit something solid and suddenly he realized Taylor had him exactly where he wanted him.

Taylor grinned victoriously, having successfully led X into pinning himself between Taylor and the headboard. Taylor was on his knees in front of X where he was pinned low against the headboard. He held X’s right arm down and had positioned himself so that X’s left leg was propped over his shoulder. X was left in an awkward position with little leverage and fully exposed. Taylor took a minute to gloat silently over X, looking him over with avidity and licking his lips. X stared Taylor down defiantly, his body was burning furiously and he couldn’t remember a time he’d been harder his entire life but even now in his defeat, his dark eyes flashed threateningly and Taylor couldn’t help but laugh.

Taylor was used to the wayward sluts that circled him like buzzards wherever he went. He could have any man or woman he desired, and he often did. But it was never like this, they treated him like a God, lavished him with soft touches and dewy eyes, hopeful that they would be the one that was more than a toy to him. He could toss them aside easily, never even bothering to remember their faces. After a cornucopia of perfectly willing pieces of ass, he found exhilaration in having to work for his winnings.

With those eyes burning into him, Taylor took X’s chin into his hand roughly.

“I must admit… I’m going to enjoy breaking you,” Taylor chuckled darkly, brushing his thumb over X’s lips. X’s body tensed at the man’s words, feeling ashamed when his cock twitched with excitement. As if to deny his body’s pleasure, he opened his mouth and nicked the tip of Taylor’s thumb with his teeth. Taylor hissed, jerking his hand back, already feeling the warmth of blood pooling around the cut. Without warning Taylor struck back, slapping X hard across the face. X groaned sharply, his body jerking violently against Taylor’s. A dark slash of blood laid smeared across X’s face where Taylor had slapped him.

Taylor said nothing, but shifted forward, licking his own blood from X’s cheek, and grabbing X’s throbbing cock. X gasped and Taylor took the opportunity to take X’s mouth again, a bit of blood left on his tongue as he invaded X’s mouth. He stroked X once, and X moaned into Taylor’s mouth, his entire body shaking fervently. Taylor could already feel the slick precum sliding down X’s cock and knew then that he was winning.

Taylor released X’s shaft, his fingers dragging down X’s thigh, leaving burning red lines in the soft, pale flesh. He shifted again, spreading X’s legs open wider, and X’s eyes widened when he realized what Taylor was doing. He grasped Taylor’s shoulder, intending to try and throw him back, but Taylor ignored him and pressed a wet finger deep inside X’s hole. X’s hand clenched Taylor’s shoulder as he gasped sharply, his body tightening around Taylor’s finger, and Taylor quickly added another, grabbing X’s shaft again with his free hand. X jolted forward, his hips pressing himself even harder against Taylor’s rough hand and pulling Taylor’s fingers deeper inside him when they settled again, and X’s mouth fell open in silence, lips shuddering.

It didn’t make sense and X wasn’t exactly sure he wanted it to, but as the idea of Taylor taking him made his cock ache sharply, his body pressed forward harder, and he tried to scowl at Taylor but moaned instead, fingers digging deeply into Taylor’s shoulder when Taylor pulled his fingers apart inside of him.

Taylor was nearly beside himself at that point. The thrill of the chase had been great but it was quickly being overshadowed by the vision before him.

“I had no idea you were such an eager little slut, X.” Taylor’s voice was low, full and rich with his own arousal. X glared at him, his face flush with a mix of ecstasy and anger. Determined to shut Taylor up X’s hand moved into Taylor’s hair, pulling him roughly to his lips again to shut him up; his body burned too hotly to have room for regrets now.

Taylor stroked X from the inside and X shuddered, biting Taylor’s lip roughly in retaliation. Taylor pulled his fingers out of X and shifted again. His blood was boiling, and the look X was giving him was only making it better as he positioned himself. X didn’t fight back and Taylor didn’t give him the chance to try.

Then Taylor impaled him and X cried out, his head jerked back only to slam into the headboard, his body arched and his hand fell from Taylor’s hair, fingers pressing desperately into his shoulder. Taylor moaned, the heat and pressure of X’s body was dizzying, he savored the feel of X‘s body like an expensive wine or the feel of driving a rare car. It was an overwhelming feeling that drove him harder than anything ever had in his life. He thrust into X again, and lights flashed in his vision, a silent cry caught in his throat and he could think of no greater triumph in his life.

X tried not to cry out but found it nearly impossible with Taylor pressing so deeply inside him, moving forcefully and striking something inside him that pushed him further away from whatever sanity he held on to. He scrambled for anything to hold onto, Taylor, the sheets, himself… Taylor and X both found themselves quickly losing themselves. Taylor pushed harder and faster completely unaware that he had lost his suave and in-control demeanor, and X made noises he hadn’t been previously aware were possible by man.

Taylor shuddered, a flash of cold jolting through his body as he pounded into X harder and faster. His fingers tightened on X’s skin, his pulse drowned out the noise between them and Taylor’s entire body stiffened, a stifled yell passed through his open lips and a wave of heat crashed through him. His body softened and he regained his breath, pulling out of X quickly. The slightest crooked grin pulling at his tired face.

X watched him move away, his own body still burning and unsatisfied. He thought for a long moment of just getting the hell out of there. Having gone too far was a deep and profound understatement of what had just happened between them… but watching Taylor try to make his escape only reminded him of the brutal aching in his crotch and when he moved it wasn’t to get up, but to grab Taylor’s arm and pull him back, throwing him down against the mattress and quickly topping him, pinning his arms down and staring down at that face, that even now grinned up at him as if he were glad X had done that.

“Such an eager little slut.” Taylor reiterated and laughed, pushing against X's wrist and lifting up a little to demonstrate that even then he still had as much control as he wanted. X shifted his weight forward and pinned him down again but it was obvious he could have fought X off of him and was only down because he was letting X do so.

"I'd say I'm not the only one." X raised an eyebrow, feeling Taylor growing harder beneath him.

"I prefer ‘opportunist’."

X ignored him and quickly moved his hand down, spreading Taylor's legs further apart and positioning himself at Taylor's entrance. He couldn't imagine why Taylor wasn't trying to fight him back but as his desire was more in control of him at the moment than his common sense, he didn't think too hard about it before starting to push inside of him. Taylor held a deep breath to keep from moaning loudly, nearly losing his composure and his plan in the sudden shockwave of X's impressive girth. With every ounce of strength and control he could muster, Taylor suddenly thrust down his hips, forcing the rest of X inside him and clenching tightly down on him. Neither could hold back the noises that tore from their throats.

"Never would've guessed you the type that likes getting fucked." X panted, trying to catch his breath and calm down, trying not to cum instantly. Taylor grinned wickedly, squeezing his hips tightly, rotating them around X, causing X to gasp and curse loudly.

"Funny, it looks like you're the only one getting fucked here." Taylor laughed and moved, making and X gasped, as he clutched at Taylor's hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. X realized too late that it had been Taylor's plan from the start, to dominate him from both sides. His mind fought with him for reason; this had gone far enough and his humiliation was imminent. His body quickly shut out his common sense, burning too hotly with lust and pleasure to listen properly. He pushed back against Taylor, meeting him half way, and both groaned.

Taylor tried to maintain his devilish game but found himself moving more for his own pleasures than just simply fucking with the man. X pushed harder and faster, feeling his own control slipping. Taylor pushed himself up, arm wrapping around X's back, fingers clawing desperately at his skin. X continued pounding into Taylor, his breath growing shorter as electricity burst through him with every messy and heated thrust. Taylor's head fell to X's shoulder, his breath shuddered and shook and small airy gasps were all he could manage as X brought them both to the edge of orgasm. X could only hear the sound of his heartbeat thundering in his ears, his entire body pulsating in the same rhythm as Taylor's. Taylor's body seized around X, his hand wound tightly in X's hair, biting down into the solid muscle of X's shoulder to stifle his cry. X jerked, head falling back as he continued crashing wildly into Taylor until he absolutely couldn't move anymore. Sparks flooded his vision and time seemed to stand still.

They collapsed back onto the bed, panting hard and both lost in their own world for the moment. On the track, they were equals, matching each other blow for blow, neither able to get the upper hand on the other. As they laid there, spent and slowly falling back into reality, they realized the exact same had come true of their bedroom exploits. Neither could find the breath at the moment to complain or do a damn thing about it, though.  
  
_to be continued_ …


	6. Pride Is Seldom Delicate; It Will Please Itself With Very Mean Advantages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (You thought they were done, didn't you? >DDDD )

**The Shower:** Taylor was the first to move. He pushed X off of him and forced himself to get up. His body protested, reminding him with each step he took just how tired and sore he really was.

X opened his eyes slowly, his heartbeat still thundering loudly in his ears. He wondered briefly what would happen from there. Did he simply vanish? It didn’t mean what they’d done hadn’t just happened. He took a deep breath and let it go slowly. The sound of running water grabbed his attention and he glanced towards the room Taylor had disappeared into before laying his head back again.  He didn‘t think he could “vanish“ right now even if he‘d wanted to.

“Are you coming or are you going to just sleep there in your own filth?” Taylor stood in the doorframe and raised an eyebrow when after a few moments X hadn’t answered.  “I wasn’t actually giving you a choice, you know,” he added snidely.

“Standing doesn’t exactly sound like an activity I’d enjoy right now,” X finally managed. His voice sounding raw and dry.

“Too bad, get your ass in here.” Taylor moved out of sight again and X laid there a bit longer, still trying to will his tired body to obey him. His eyes closed and the sound of rushing water was extremely calming. A few more minutes passed…

“I’m going come in there and smack you in the face with my dick. I’m sure I’ve got _something_ that could help that dry throat of yours,” Taylor yelled blatantly, turning back towards the bedroom and being mildly startled to see X leaning against the doorframe.

“Don’t bother, I’d bite it off.” X grinned sleepily. Taylor swallowed hard, the sight of X with his hair a mess and the faintest sheen of sweat still clinging to his well sculpted body sent a painful twitch to his cock. He smirked and caught X’s gaze.

“Fag.” There was no malice to his voice when he said it. The devious grin on his lips deepened when X raised an eyebrow.

“Fucker,” X answered back quickly yet just as blandly, a small smile managing to form on his own face.

The fire between them still burned despite events, and Taylor found the implication positively delicious.  
  
~~**~~

The shower was hotter than X had been expecting and he flinched as the searing water slid down his body. But soon enough the heat soaked into him, easing the tension and unwinding his tight muscles. He might have been able to relax and even enjoy the moment had he not suddenly thought about Taylor standing so close.

When he thought about the man standing behind him and everything that had just happened, it occurred to him that it wasn’t regret that formed the tight knots in his stomach – and that thought alone seemed to make it even worse. Regret could be tossed away, regret could be destroyed. It made him realize there was something deeper to all of this, something he was damn sure he didn’t want to think about.

Taylor watched him, getting a twisted pleasure out of knowing exactly what was running through the man’s head. It was almost shocking how honest his face was when not hidden under cold black leather.

“I hope you’re not expecting flowers. Not exactly my style.” Taylor couldn’t help but take a jab at him.

“Go fuck yourself.” X spat bitterly.

“Why, when I can just get you to do it for me?” Taylor laughed, and it echoed in the enclosed space.

X bit his lip, anger tightly knitting his brow. He told himself was really getting sick of Taylor’s pompous attitude. He swung around, grabbing Taylor and slamming him against the steam slicked tile. Taylor laughed again.

“Now really, remember where this got us last time?” He raised an eyebrow, grinning slyly and X pressed a hand to Taylor’s throat.

“Shut up or that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble,” X whispered harshly. Yes, he convinced himself, he was really angry with this man… mad enough to hurt him… mad… upset … heated…

“Is that so?” Taylor continued smirking, wondering if the man had even noticed the raging boner he was pressing into Taylor’s thigh, “You going to do something about it?” Taylor slid his hand down X’s wet stomach, grasping X’s cock firmly. X gasped, the anger in his face breaking instantly. His fingers clenched Taylor’s shoulders and he leaned into the touch, his body betraying him completely by rolling into that fiery touch.

“You ever thought that maybe racing isn’t the best profession for you?” Taylor grinned at the obvious intent of his question, only to drive the point home by massaging X again, feeling X’s body shudder against his. X panted, unable to hold his breath steady, his heartbeat grew harder and louder in his ears. He opened his eyes and gripped Taylor’s shoulder harder.

“I thought I told you to shut up?” X didn’t wait for a response as he closed the distance between their lips, hand quickly sliding behind Taylor’s head to press him deeper into their wild kiss.

Taylor pushed off the wall, breaking their kiss and turning X around only to slam him against the tile. He reached over, licking his lips as he picked up the small vial of shampoo and flipping the top off. He quickly slicked some of it over his own swollen member and toss the bottle away, moving his hand up into X’s hair before jerking his head back, tracing his tongue over the violent purple and red teeth marks in X’s shoulder. X winced slightly at the pain of the touch.

“You’ll carry this mark forever. No matter where you go… No matter what you cover it with… you‘ll always know…” Taylor thrust himself into X and they both tightened, X’s hand wrapping around behind him, fingers twining into Taylor’s hair. Taylor moved closer, breathing heavily as he got right against X’s ear and whispered, “If only for one night, you were my whore.”

X started to protest and Taylor pressed into him again, turning his anger into a violent outcry. He wanted to fight back but his body simply didn’t listen, lost to the surging fire that flared through him with every forceful drive of Taylor’s body. His legs threatened to give out on him and he held the wall for support. His other hand mindlessly moving down to stroke himself roughly in time with Taylor’s pounding.

X’s body shivered with a sudden frozen chill and he could no longer feel. His eyes shut tightly he could only see the strobes of light in his vision, could only hear the rhythm of his own heart out of sync with the gasps coming from behind him… He felt dizzy, felt the world swirling around him, felt like he was falling.

The last thing he heard… a slight chuckle from the darkness.  
* * * * *

 _to be continued_ …

 


	7. The Passions Grafted On Wounded Pride Are The Most Inveterate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If David Detector happened to find out X wasn’t at the track and wasn’t in his hotel room… X didn’t want to think about it. Too many what if’s… not enough answers that didn’t end in absolute catastrophe.

**The Morning:** X woke up to the morning light causing a sharp aching in his head. He groaned and slowly opened his eyes, the early morning sun filled the room with a tawny gold and at first his reaction was to simply turn away from the nagging light and pull the blanket up around him closely. A few more hours of precious sleep considering what had happened and what the day still held in store for him. Considering… … considering…

X’s heart leapt into his throat when everything came back to him with the sharpness of a knife. He sat up quickly, head spinning dizzily. The room was silent… empty… He would have tried to convince himself it hadn’t happened had he woken up in his own room. How had he even gotten to bed anyway… the last thing he could remember was… … well… He decided it was best not to think too hard on what he last remembered.

If it was already morning… then the race would be starting soon. He moved and his body lashed out against him, protesting every move he made with sharp aches and pains darting across his muscles. He ignored it for the most part, stumbling only slightly when his legs threatened to give out on him upon standing.

He tried desperately to keep his mind of the night before. He didn’t have time for silly fucked-up head games. He needed to hurry up and make an appearance at the track… he was certain Inspector was waiting for him. If David Detector happened to find out X wasn’t at the track and wasn’t in his hotel room… X didn’t want to think about it. Too many what if’s… not enough answers that didn’t end in absolute catastrophe. He needed to get out of there, needed to forget the entire thing happened… he needed to stop wondering why or how he could’ve let it happen. Just forget it… …

He gathered his things quickly, sliding his pants on and leaving them loose just to walk, no, practically run back to his own room, partially so he didn’t get caught… mostly because he was just simply running away. Or trying to.

His own room wasn’t far away and he quickly let himself in, slamming the door shut behind him. His heart thundered in his chest and he swallowed hard as if waiting for something to happen. Maybe to have Detector come out from another room with that surprised and curious look on his face… nailing the coffin of his lover’s guilt closed with a simple “Where were you?”

A moment passed, and with it, so did the fear that he’d somehow been caught. Though he still literally had to force himself to step away from the door. He had to leave, had to get to the track… had to put this all behind him.

He walked into the bathroom and stopped suddenly, doing a double take in the mirror. He stared at his shoulder with an almost detached sense of curiosity. A violently purple and black mar against pale white skin, deep red wounds nestled in the center. It called out to him in a way that made bile rise in his throat. He could hear the words echoing back to him. _“You’ll carry this mark forever”_ and with a sudden burst of anger punched the wall, drywall giving way to the force of the hit. It burned… the brutal lesion… the knowledge of what caused it… the words that came with it. The fact that he’d let himself fall so far… so quickly… For so many years he had prided himself on his strength, he believed he was invincible and that the world flowed about him as opposed to through him. He believed it was the world that needed him… never the other way around.

It was a fool’s pride.  
  
~~**~~

David Detector took one look at him and raised an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong? You look like hell.” Leave it up to an inspector to see beyond a disguise. X was hardly surprised at the man’s keen eye.

“Nothing, slept bad.” X tried his best to sound convincing for his lover. Had the inspector seen his eyes, he would have known instantly X was lying; even without that, Detector looked at him skeptically as if he didn’t believe him for a second but gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“It’s always hard to sleep in a bed not your own,” the inspector commented. “Anyway, shake it off. We’re about 20 minutes from start. They’ve already pulled your car out since you weren’t here to do it yourself. Maybe you should’ve put more effort into sleeping and less into fixing that car. Had to have been a hell of a job by yourself.” Detector left it at that, and patted X on the shoulder as he passed, “Give ’em hell.” He grinned, and X tried not to show the pain in his face, a flash of pain tore down his arm when the inspector hit his wound. It seemed fitting, to have a physical pain to go with the guilt of lying to a man who was supposed to be his everything.  
  
~~**~~

X stood dumbfounded as he stared at the Shooting Star. It was perfect, like it had never been driven a day in its life. The paint sparkled in the bright morning sunlight and X immediately thought of Inspector’s words. David thought _he’d_ done this? His first thought was obviously sabotage and he gritted his teeth.

“It’s not going to blow up. Promise.” The voice answered X’s thoughts as though he had said them aloud, and it only made him angrier as he turned to face the man, “A simple thank-you will suffice I think.” Taylor grinned madly, closing the distance between them and clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Anything _else_ might be a bit much in the daylight, don’t you think?” he whispered and X quickly smacked Taylor’s arm away, snarling. He fought the urge to punch him right then and there, knowing cameras were everywhere. Instead he leaned in closely.

“I’m going to destroy you, you bastard.”

“Glad to hear it. I’d hate to think our little… _tryst_ … made you soft.” Taylor’s grin widened as he started to walk away, stopping only to look over his shoulder, “Oh, and by the way. It’s not a gift… … I just wanted you at your best so when I whip you on the track there will be no doubt who the best is.” He laughed as he walked away, and X could feel his blood boiling.

He turned to his car, staring at the perfect paint job and frowned deeply. He kicked the door as hard as he could, denting it before leaping in and revving the engine. It was imperfect now… as he was. Despite his imperfections… and despite his flawed sense of pride. He was determined to be a _better_ man than Taylor…

On the track or off.  
  
* * * * * F I N I S * * * * *


End file.
